


How Many Secrets Can You Keep?

by GeekyBaseballPlayer (2Partsof1GayHeart), TristanTheTrekkie (2Partsof1GayHeart)



Category: Original Work, Tristavius
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe, Angst, Awkward Boners, Awkwardness, BDSM, Best Friends, Bonding, Boys' Love, Canon Relationships, Canon Rewrite, Children, Comfort, Confessions, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom/sub, Falling In Love, Family, Family Issues, Feelings, Feels, Freeform, Friendship, Horny Teenagers, I'm Bad At Summaries, LGBTQ Themes, Love, M/M, Male Bonding, Male Slash, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), POV First Person, POV Male Character, Pining, Plot, Relationship(s), Secrets, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Soulmates, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9208442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Partsof1GayHeart/pseuds/GeekyBaseballPlayer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Partsof1GayHeart/pseuds/TristanTheTrekkie
Summary: Whenever I'm alone with youYou make me feel like I am home againWhenever I'm alone with youYou make me feel like I am whole again"Lovesong" by The Cure





	1. Thirteen-Tristan's POV

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a true story. AU tag is referring to the alterations to the story for fic purposes. 
> 
> I recommend you read Octavius's POV first, but you don't necessarily need to.

     My mom was in her pajamas the second she got home from work. Which answered the question of whether or not she’d be joining me, my stepdad and stepsister, to a birthday party at the grandparents house. She didn’t care for her mother in-law very much...at all.

     I’d just saved my Pokemon Pearl game when my stepdad came into my room, “You need to get ready for the party tonight.” I got up, putting my DS on my dresser, “Yeah, ok. I’ll be out in a minute.” 

     I went to my shirt drawer and grabbed the first thing my fingers grazed. I slid the shirt over my head and pulled on some jeans from the floor before rolling on clean, white socks and lacing up my shoes. I grabbed a black hair tie and threw my hair back into a bun. It didn’t really suit me but it kept my hair out of my face, aside from a few strands that could be considered bangs. Before leaving my room, I click off my lava lamp and mark the day off the calendar, since I was going to be staying the night. I wash my face in the bathroom and check for any hair. No luck. Thirteen might be too early but it seemed every guy in my family had facial hair at age ten. Maybe I was exaggerating. 

     I threw my overnight bag into the back of my stepdad’s rusty old truck and we all piled in. My stepsister is a year older than me but she has the mentality of a two year old. I’m not trying to be mean or anything, she just legit has a problem or something. I don’t know what’s wrong with her but she’s annoying unless you hand her a video game then she zones out and is finally quiet and minding her own business. In the truck, there are no video games and she’s annoying me and my stepdad the whole way, as per usual.

     We finally make it to the grandparent’s house and I grab my things from the back of the truck. I quickly go inside to be greeted by their old, chocolate Labrador. Mudd was the sweetest old dog. Poor thing was overweight but she was the happiest old thing in this house. I pet her grey muzzle, “You’ll always be a puppy to me, girl.” 

     My little cousins were in the living room and didn’t bother to get up. They quietly greeted me and went back to whatever they were huddled together for. My stepdad and stepsister come in and immediately go to the girls, tickling them and playing with them. I take my bag to the back room with the largest bed. After I come out and shut the door behind me, Mudd plops down in front of the door, where she will most likely sleep all night.

    I sit at the dining room table and my grandpa joins me. He starts up a conversation about me joining him at the gun range again but we’re cut off by my attention seeking stepsister. She begins to tell him all about her karate classes so I move to the hallway, where there is no one to get in the way of. 

    I lean up against the wall as I hear the sliding door open and my stepdad grabbing my stepsister, rushing past me into a side room. He had a grudge against his sister and never let his daughter see her. I never understood the family feud but I didn’t really care either. I see another one of my younger cousins run to meet the girls in their room.

    As I turn back to the living room, I notice someone staring at me. He’s a little shorter than me and has a stronger build, which is pretty common considering my slightly pudgy appearance. He’s looking at my shirt and I remember I’m wearing a kinda creepy Joker shirt and tight pants. It might put such a masculine guy off to see another guy wearing clothes like that but it’s a good way to see if we’ll get along. I smile at him a bit shyly. I’ve never been very good at communication. He’s wearing a baggy Black Sabbath shirt and I silently nod in appreciation. He’s got on loose jeans and some kind of sports shoes but I don’t pay too much attention as he makes his way towards me. His skin is a caramel color and his wavy, dark hair is an adorable mess on his head. His eyes are wide and like dark chocolate shining in the living room lights. He nervously rubs his slightly upturned nose, a habit I myself have when meeting someone new. His full lips part in a shy smile as he walks by me, looking at my shirt. “Nice shirt, bruh.” 

    Once again, I’m terrible at communication. I see a cookie jar in the kitchen and no one watching so I give him a sly wink and make my way towards it. I dodge the edge of the table as the kids run past me and I make it to my goal unscathed. Smooth. I reach in and steal a handful of chocolate chip cookies, my favourite. I eat them quickly before the little kids can pester me for one and...what was his name? I remember my stepdad mentioning an Octavius around my age being here. Octavius joins me in the kitchen. He clears his throat, and I turn to look at him. “Hey, so I never caught your name.” I guess no one told him about me.

    I smile and stick out my hand, kinda awkwardly, “My name’s Tristan. Tristan Mathews.”

    He shakes my hand with a small laugh, “So are we talking like James Bond now?”

    I silently debate with myself before deciding not to use my terrible English accent, “In that case it would have been ‘Mathews. Tristan Mathews’.” Actually Tristan Alexander Mathews but that’s too much and he probably doesn’t care.

    We continue to banter until we are interrupted by my stepdad leaving with my stepsister and grandma joining us in the kitchen. She requests Octavius help to bring in some heavy gifts for Ashley, one of the little kids. I watched him unload the gift from the truck and bring it inside. I admired his strength. We sit in the kitchen once he is done helping the olds and discuss baseball and video games. Eventually the party starts and finishes uneventfully. Octavius is sitting with Mud so I join him. 

    “So we get the back room. They said maybe we can bond.” 

    He looks at me, confused, “Back room? For what? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to be here.”

    I sit down, “It’s fine because I feel the same way. Even though I really don’t want to go home.” I look at Mudd as I pet her and think about my parents. Always fighting. Never sober.

    I get up and walk to the back room with Octavius close behind. My things are already on the side closest to the door so I unpack while Octavius takes the side closer to the large window.

    We get comfortable and soon start to talk about everything that comes to mind, basically just getting to know each other and who we are. We mostly just talk about our pasts and how we’re handling them now. We talk about our hobbies and celebrities we like. But mostly I just listen to Octavius. He seems like he’s always wanted to get everything off his chest and all he needed was someone who cared enough to listen. I guess that was me. I started to get cold and I knew he was too by the chill bumps on his arms. I quietly picked up the covers and moved under them, ushering him under without interrupting his thought process. It wasn’t long before he fell to sleep and I could hear his gentle breathing. I was glad that we stayed the night and got to hang out. We both really needed someone new in our lives.

    I wake up the next morning and feel unusually warm. I shift to look at what I’m laying on and I realize it’s Octavius. He’s just waking up as he looks down at me and seems a bit startled. Suddenly he’s getting up and I’m being tossed aside like a rag doll. I’m on the floor next to the bed so I get to my knees and look across the bed at him. We start laughing like a couple of lunatics and make our way up to the bed to calm down only to burst into laughter after making eye contact again. It was a pretty good way to wake up in the morning. More preferable than waking up in my house... in my own bed. That wasn’t home though. It certainly didn’t feel like it. Waking up like this. This felt like home.


	2. Junior Year-Tristan POV

     It was the first day back to school from what seemed like the shortest summer break of my life. I was preparing to turn sixteen in a few weeks and I was starting my junior year of high school. It was the first day for Octavius in his new ninth grade classes. While I was looking over my class schedule and figuring out what after-school clubs to join, I also looked over his schedule. I tell him everything I know about the teachers on his schedule and their classes.

     When we actually met up at the school, I walked him around to all of his classrooms and even stopped at a few of mine. I’d have repeat teachers for my art classes and my speech class was being taught by the teacher who helped students put together a school report to be shown on tv every Tuesday. I had taken the class the year before so the teacher already knew what kind of work to expect out of me. 

     My art teacher, Mr. Bowey, had always been my favourite, and he was like an at school guardian. I could always go to him for help with anything. When I introduced Octavius to him, or Vi for short, he shook his hand and told him that he was always welcome in his classroom. My favourite part about his classroom was the little closet that he had used as an office up until the end of my tenth grade year. He’d laid out a matt and would let me take naps between classes or during lunch. The door could lock so that none of the underclassmen would bug me while I worked or slept.

     The first bell to get to class rang and we headed separate ways to our first classes of the day. We’d meet up again for lunch and hopefully my friends would accept Vi into our odd little family. The thing about all of my friends is...well...they’re all gay. Our group was the most diverse and accepted anyone from jocks to the kids from anime club and they didn’t have to be gay but most of them were at the very least bi.

     I was often made for a gay myself, being in art and hanging out with openly flamboyant boys but all the harsh words rolled off and I pitied anyone who would confront our group. We don’t look for fights but we defend our own. Half of the girls were in our school’s ROTC programs and were scary just to look at, let alone be confronted by. I’d known those girls since middle school and we were the first openly gay supporters in our high school.

     My parents had tried to convince me to leave the group and join the artists or jocks or literally anyone else, but I couldn’t leave all of my friends behind. I had tried to join band but it wasn’t worth the money, according to my mom. I’d even dated a girl to show my parents they had nothing to worry about but it just didn’t seem to work out with her. It lasted for a good seven months but she was distant. She ended up dumping me on my birthday. That was a good enough reason to my parents for me to stay single for a bit.

     My first few classes fly by, filled with brief introductions and awkward laughter. The lunch bell rings and I make my way to the cafeteria before the lines become too long. I’m in the line farthest from the main doors, the fastest line to go through but only juniors and seniors have this figured out. I scan the cafeteria for Vi but I’m shorter than most guys, at about five foot eight, and in the flood of students, it’s hard to see anyone. I make my way through the line and grab the tray with the best looking food which really isn’t saying much. It’s all bland and looks fake. 

     I scan my school ID at the end of the lunch line and see a few of my friends sitting at a table near a wall. As I make my way towards them, I see a familiar poof of curly brown hair. I smile and wolf whistle and he turns to find who’d be so impolite. His accusing look quickly changes to one of amusement as he dodges students and tables, making his way to me. I didn’t just whistle to get his attention. He really had become very attractive over the years we’d known each other. He was definitely taller than me and had a stronger build. Compared to my lean, runner’s build, he looked like a bodybuilder. Looking at us was like looking at Thor and Loki from the new Marvel movies. His hair was longer now but the tight curls put it around his neck and ears while I kept my trimmed and slicked back into a gentleman’s look. Or a greasy artist look. With my stubble, it was hard to tell. 

     “Hey, Vi! How’s high school going so far?” I wrap my arm around his back in a half hug but leave it there while we walk to an empty table.

     He rolls his eyes, flopping down at the table and angrily runs his hands through his hair. “This is NOT what I expected high school to be like,” he lowers his tone to a whisper, “and between me and you, man, I think the teachers hate me.” 

     I watch the way his curls fall back into place before returning my gaze to his face. “Nah, dude. I think you just have to get used to their different attitudes and sense of humour.” I scratch at my stubble mindlessly, trying to keep my hands to myself.

     As if he was copying me, Octavius scratches the stubble on his neck. “Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, man, how was your day?” He looks up at me, making eye contact that makes me blush before I quickly look away.

     What the hell? Sure he’s attractive but what kind of reaction was that? I quickly look for a cute girl which doesn’t take long. I catch her eyes and give her a quick wink before turning back to Octavius, feeling a bit calmer. 

     “Same as always. It gets a little blase after two years. Just the same old introductory papers and ‘about me’ assignments. I’ll just use the same ones I made ninth grade.” I smirk at a group of girls in too tight pants. They smile and giggle, but I know I’d never actually go after girls like that. I like the chase.

     Octavius catches my glances and leans his head back trying to see who I was looking at. He sees the girls and shoots me a quick smirk before turning back around to the girls. “Hey, ladies. Come here a minute?” He nods his head in our direction, automatically putting on his jock persona.  All the girls look at each other like they had just seen a celebrity and make their way over to our table. My confident demeanor instantly falls, and I start to fidget in my seat. 

     The three girls, a tall, slender blonde, a thicker brunette, and a short blonde, all take seats at our table. The tall blonde has her green eyes glued to Vi while the brunette can’t seem to keep her hands out of my hair. 

     I shift closer to Vi, made a little uncomfortable by the sudden attention of these attractive and attentive girls. They seemed like predators stalking their prey with how they looked us up and down. “Uh how you ladies doin’ today?”

     The short blonde bounces back and forth between her feet playing with Vi’s curls. The tall one shoots her an evil glare but goes back to staring at Vi. “I’m great now,” she answers my question not taking her eyes off Vi, “better now, actually.” He takes his eyes off the brunette and to me letting his actual fear flash across his face. These girls are definitely dangerous. 

     “Listen, ladies. We’d love to stick around but our friends are actually waiting for us. Sorry.” I grab Vi by his bicep and carefully drag him from the table and away from the psycho chicks. “Why’d you call them over? Did you see what they were wearing? Girls like that are only looking for one thing and they’ll do anything to get it.” I spin him around to look into his eyes and he just smiles. I forget why I was even upset when I look into his eyes.

     Vi grabs my shoulders and lowers his voice to a whisper, “Don’t you dare take that tone with me, man. I saw how you were looking at them. I was going to go through that for you. They personally aren’t my type, but if I had to go through a couple minutes of whores for you, so be it.” He flips his curls out of his face while never dropping his smile. I hadn’t realized just how deep his voice had gotten over the years until now. His breath ghosting across my skin as he leans in.

     I pat his arms, hoping that he’ll loosen his death grip. “Ok but they’re not my type either. I just like to smile at people. Is that a problem?” I run my hand through my hair as he drops his hands to his sides. “What’s your ‘type’ anyway?”

     Vi chuckles as if he’s frustrated. “Don’t change the subject, Trish.” He looks around looking for something. His eyes light up, and he gives me this ‘watch this’ look. A very flamboyant gay comes walking up. Vi smiles and winks at him making the boy lose his train of thought and trip on his own footing. Vi turns back to me, “Now, did that look friendly?”

     “Don’t call me Trish.” I turn to my table of friends and catch the amused looks before they can hide them. I roll my eyes and grab a seat, pulling one out for Vi to sit next to me.

     One of the girls at the table, Kayla, a mixed girl with snake bite piercings, snickers and looks between me and Vi, “Lover’s quarrel?” I feel my eyes get wide as I stare between her and a couple of the other girls giggling, “Uhm no-”

     Vi cuts me off while I try to ramble out objections. “Yes! How have you girls dealt with this guy for so many years? I slept with him ONE night, and we already started little fights like that. Speaking of, every time we sleep together, he has a thing about trying to cuddle with me. Lately, I don’t stop him.” 

     I stutter trying to respond and just get laughs and slightly apologetic looks from my friends. “Listen, wh-when he says we sleep together! That’s literally it! We SLEEP not sexually or anything!” I turn to Vi and point my finger at him, “And you know I get cold and you put off a lot of heat that I’m drawn to in my sleep. I can’t help it and you know it!”

     He throws his hands up in a mock surrender but then leans in towards the girls. “Well, there WAS that one time. But it’s whatever. You girls don’t want to hear about that.” 

     The girls all seem to lean in and Kayla speaks up, “Actually, I think we’d be very interested in what you have to talk about.”

     Vi leans back and fixes his jacket in faux innocence. “You should ask your buddy, Trish, to explain. He always does it better than I do.” Vi turns and shoots me a wink, making me blush a little before I turn back to the girls.

     “First of all, stop calling me that. You know I hate it. Also, nothing has happened between us so I have no idea as to what you are referring to. We ‘cuddle’, if it can even be called that and we share a bed when we stay the night together. There is nothing to look into or seem so interested in. Nothing to talk about.”

     Vi chuckles. “He’s cute, ain’t he?” 

     I roll my eyes and get up, “Well, when you get done making things up with your overactive imaginations, I’ll be outside.” I push in my chair and calmly walk to the glass double doors going out to the courtyard. I find an empty bench and take a seat. I shake my head and smile to myself, knowing exactly who was going to follow after me. It made my insides feel warm, and I didn’t even try to fight it this time.


	3. Sweet Dreams-Tristan's POV

_      I’m floating in a strangely calm, black void and I immediately know I’m dreaming. I look around to get a sense of what’s to come, and hear a breathy moan from behind me. I turn around but don’t see the source of the sound. A room slowly comes into view around me. It’s bare walls and empty floor give away nothing as I become more aware of my position. I realize I’m tied down to a wooden chair and uncomfortably hard. The room is hot and cast in a red glow from somewhere behind me. Sweat beads down my naked body and I’m out of breath as someone comes into my line of sight from behind.  _

_      It’s Octavius. His hair curls around his face and his stubble has grown out to a fuller beard. He’s wearing a tight shirt and jeans, which do nothing to hide his muscles and obvious bulge. He’s gripping a riding crop in his right hand and runs his left hand down my arm before taking a step back to look down my body. _

_      “Vi? What the-” I’m cut off by a sharp slap on my bare thigh. I gasp out in pain and feel chill bumps ripple across my skin from the burn. My eyes are wide as I look into his and see only lust. He’s eyeing me with blown pupils as I try to catch my breath. He kneels between my spread legs and grabs my jaw roughly, “You will only refer to me as Master. Understood?” I feel my chest tighten and my dick twitch at the sound of his voice. _

_      I gaze down at his alarmingly calm face before responding in a steady voice, “Yes, Master.” He responds with a satisfied smirk and pats my cheek gently, “Good boy. Now, keep your eyes on me.” I almost whine as he brings the riding crop up and slowly runs it down my face, neck, chest, stomach, and finally, my rock hard dick. He keeps his eyes glued to mine as I maintain eye contact, only glancing down when he smiles dangerously. He hums approvingly and drops the whip to the floor. _

_      He stands slowly and leans forward, putting one hand around my left bicep and the other in my hair. He yanks my head back roughly and begins sucking and biting my neck. I squirm beneath him and feel a whimper catch in my throat as he runs his other hand down my chest, stopping to pinch a nipple before running his hand further down. He moves closer, resting a knee on the chair between my thighs, pulling my hair a little tighter. He leans back to look into my half lidded eyes before letting go of me all together and stalking around the chair.  _

_     I try to focus my eyes on him behind me but I become dizzy and roll my head to rest my chin on my shoulder. I can hear him going through something with metal and glass tapping together loudly in the otherwise quiet room. His hands come around to the front of my face and he places a gag in my mouth before receding back out of view. I relax as his hands run down my arms and he’s untying my wrists, nibbling my shoulder absentmindedly. _

_      I watch him with wary eyes. He moves in front of me again and makes quick work of untying my legs before grabbing me by the hands and slowly walking me backwards until I feel a bed hit the back of my knees. He maneuvers me up the bed and my wrists are quickly cuffed to the bedposts. He runs his hands down my arms and over my sides before he grips my hips. If this weren’t a dream, I would definitely have bruises in the morning.  _

_      I find myself smiling around the gag and he catches my eye, a devilish grin crossing his face before he’s leaning down with a growl and biting at my chest. I grunt and pull against my restraints, wanting to run my hands through his hair. His shirt grazes my aching dick and I can’t help as my body spasms and I thrust up into his chest. He grips my hips even tighter and I let out a low whine. “Now now, none of that. Wouldn’t want to ruin a perfectly good shirt, would we?”  _

_     I shake my head and relax my body back into the sheets. He’s back on me, this time biting at my nipples, his left hand tweaking one as he licks at the other. His right hand snakes down to my untouched dick and I moan as he squeezes the base gently. He starts jerking me at a tortuously slow pace and I concentrate on breathing and keeping my hips still. He sits up, letting go of me and I whine in protest. He chuckles before taking off his shirt and working his pants off. I admire his naked body and realize he hadn’t been wearing underwear. _

_      His dick is hard and standing at attention beside mine. He’s thicker and longer, which is huge compared to my own cock. He wraps his left hand around my neck and his other around both of our shafts. He moans so deep it almost sounds like a purr and he’s moving his right hands at a faster pace now, bucking his hips forward and tightening his hand on my neck just a fraction more.  _

_      I can feel tears in my eyes as my climax builds too fast. This couldn’t end so soon. I gasp for air as he loosens his grip on my throat and rests his arm beside my head, catching my lips in an oddly gentle kiss before he’s biting at my lips and I’m shuddering and jerking into his hand. I feel my cum hit my stomach and he continues stroking, speeding up and squeezing more until he’s grunting and growling through his release. He strokes our dicks a few more times and I’m whimpering from over sensitivity before he lets go and flops down next to me. _

_ We’re both panting and spent, sprawled out and tangled together. He reaches behind my head, taking the gag out, and I stretch my jaw. He tosses it over to the side of the bed and uncuffs my wrists, settling back on my side. I bring my wrists in front of me and rub them gently. He’s looking at me with unapologetic eyes as I feel rather than see my surrounding fade away. He’s the last thing I see before everything fades to black. _

 

***** ***** *****

 

     I wake up to a familiar, muscular arm draped over my waist and a hand splayed across my stomach. I’d gotten used to waking up like this. A warm, strong body curled up around me like a protective cloak. It’s stuffy under the covers and I shift a little to get some air. I feel something hard against my rear and stay deadly still. My face heats up and I know I’m blushing. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears and I try to keep my breathing slow and calm. Octavius’s breathing is still low and I know he’s still sleeping. 

     I could tell by the light shining around the curtains over the window that it was around noon. We’d stayed up pretty late, playing Sims 4 and walking the dog in the rain. We always seem to sleep longer when it rains. I carefully reached for my phone hooked up to it’s charger on the bedside table. I click the screen and check for any texts from anyone important. I was right about it being almost noon but it wasn’t quite as late as I thought it was. I unlock my phone and respond to my mother’s ‘good morning’ texts with a smirk. 

     I put my phone back and relax into the body behind me. It’s awkward but I couldn’t blame him. It happens to me all the time. As a matter of fact, it was happening right now. The warmth of a body and knowing who it was had probably caused it. I couldn’t do anything but try to will it away. I tried to think of anything to make it go away but this wasn’t normal morning wood. I couldn’t very well jack off right next to the guy I’d be picturing. 

     A flash of my dream played in my mind and I remembered exactly what all had played in my head last night. My blush grew hotter and spread down my chest. I had to get to the bathroom and handle this but I didn’t want to wake him up and deal with...this. I tried to weigh what would be more embarrassing. Waking him up while I tried to run and hide my raging erection didn’t seem any better than waiting it out but the second option would be more doable. Just as long as I could calm down before he woke up. 

     I hear Vi mumble, almost incoherently,”Tristan, please don’t leave me.” I hold my breath, thinking that maybe he’d woken up and knew what was going on inside of my head somehow. That was impossible, of course, but I still worried. By the sound of his breathing, he’s just waking up and he’d only been sleep talking. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that, but I never got used to it. I stayed as still as possible and breathed in, waiting for him to wake up fully.

     I feel him roll over to the edge of the bed on his side. I wonder if he’s embarrassed but I don’t think about it too much as I sit up slowly. I stretch my legs out and throw the blanket off before putting my feet on the soft carpet. I quickly adjust myself while he’s still sitting on his side.

     “Good morning, Trish. Dream any last night?” I cringed even though it was a question he’d ask every morning that we woke up together. I could always make something up but I didn’t feel like trying to lie when I had an erection to take care of.

     “Nope. And if I did, I don’t remember it. You know how it is.” I paused to yawn, “Why, did you have a dream?” I’m pretty sure he had since he was talking in his sleep but I wasn’t sure what had it brought on.

     He takes a second to respond, probably still drowsy, “That’s no fun, Pretty Boy.” I put my hands on the mattress and stare down at the floor, trying not to blush yet again. This was a record by now. I’m pretty sure if most of my blood wasn’t down south, it would all be in my face and I’d be a tomato for the day.

     “What? You want me to make something up? Because I can and you know it.” I try to laugh a little. I hadn’t meant to sound so mean. I didn’t want him thinking something was wrong. 

     “Sorry, Alex. I didn’t mean to sound pushy. I was just joking. Is something wrong?” He only really called me Alex when he was worried or angry. I couldn’t tell him I desperately needed to jack off so I just shrugged.

     “Nah, you know I’m not really a morning person.” I adjust my briefs again and sigh. This is getting uncomfortable and I’m hoping he leaves soon or I can make my way out without acting too weird.

     “Well, I’m going to the bathroom.” Thank god. “If there’s not coffee, can you make some?” I smile. He knows I make the coffee every morning. I know he needs it to function just as much as I do.

     He’s almost through the door when I speak up again. “Yeah. You want breakfast-” it was almost noon but eggs were faster, “or, lunch by now…” I rub my hands over my face, trying to wake up and get the dull sting from light out of my eyes, and run my fingers through my hair. I see Vi nod as he walks across the hall and into the bathroom. 

     I shake my head and get up to close and lock the bedroom door before the dog decides to join me. I make quick work of my...issue after finding a box of tissues on the floor. I bite my shirt to keep my noisy breathing as quiet as possible, knowing the walls are thin. 

     When I’m done, I throw the used tissues into the waste basket by the bed and walk to the kitchen, noticing Vi’s still in the bathroom. I stop at the sink and wash my hands, splashing a bit of water on my face and neck to cover the wet patch on my shirt. 

     Vi shuffles through the dining room and into the kitchen, looking even sleepier than when he’d headed to the bathroom. I start taking out all of the things I’ll need to make eggs, toast, and bacon. I don’t care much for bacon, but I know Vi loves it, so I always give him what I make for my plate. I crack a couple of eggs for each of us into the skillets and start laying the strips of meat, moving my hands quickly to avoid getting popped by the grease. I have my back to him, but I hear him chuckling behind me. I raise my brow even though he can’t see it.

     “Oh no. You are actually cooking. I’m scared. You might poison me.” I flip the first egg and turn to look at Vi in the face, but he’s still shirtless. “You act like I don’t feed people daily in my Culinary class. They all seem to trust me. Most of them even say my food’s pretty good.” I smile with a wink, feeling my face heat up again as I look over his broad chest and chiseled features before quickly turning back to the stove. I flip the rest of the eggs and start turning over the bacon. His bare chest caused me to remember my dream and I had to work to concentrate my mind fully on the food in front of me. 

    I see Vi come around the island and lean on the counter by the stove before I go to the fridge to grab the butter for the toast and to place the rest of the eggs back in there place in the door. When I turn back around towards the stove, he’s chewing on a strip of bacon missing from the skillet with a small satisfied smile on his face. Much like the smile he had last night...well, in my dream.

    “Well, they didn’t lie to you. I can tell you that.”

     I walk across the small kitchen, reaching to place the bread in the toaster and turning off the knobs for the eggs on the stove. I roll my eyes and smile, “You act like something as simple as bacon would be an accomplishment.” I walk around Vi on my way back to the stove and smack him playfully on the arm. “Besides, it’s my eggs that everyone loves so much.”

     Suddenly, he’s making these terrible, girly pornstar moans, “How do you like your eggs? Fertilized.”

     I shake my head and laugh at him under my breath, “You’re lame, you know that?” I start pulling down plates for us and setting forks and butter knives down on them. Vi reaches over me from behind. I feel his chest graze my shoulder and I’m reminded of how much taller he is then me. 

     “Hey, let me help you with that, shortie. Can’t let you do all the domestic things, can I?” He pours the drinks and helps make the plates, moving the salt and pepper to the table and switching the light on. 

     “You should see the things we do in Culinary. We practically set up whole dining rooms then make entire meals for several dozens of people, sometimes. It’s quite the experience, maybe you can join?” I know he actually enjoys working in the kitchen but I also know his dad is kinda touchy about things like that. 

     He sighs, “I can’t, and you know that, man. Maybe if I continue on the path I am in band since I’m liking it less and less, I might join, but right now I can’t.”

     I hadn’t really seen him play his instruments, outside of when the band plays at the football games but I’d heard he was one of the best through some of my jealous band friends. 

     “I know. I just wish you didn’t have to leave band to do another thing you’d like. It’s only available for eleventh and twelfth graders anyways so maybe you’ll have open blocks by then.”

     He’s behind me again and he rests his chin on my shoulder, “But that means you won’t be there, and that’s no fun.” I can tell he’s pouting by the sound of his voice so I just pat his cheek and move to finish setting the table.

     “You don’t want me there because then I’ll embarrass you in front of all of your friends with my superior cooking skills.” I smile at him, walking around the table and sitting across from him. I catch him still looking at me as I start eating my food. I keep my eyes down on my food and smile to myself. It’s funny how last night’s dream could have me so bothered but here we are having the most domestic moment.

     I try not to think of how nice it would be to wake up like this every morning. Then again, if it were how I wanted it, it wouldn’t be exactly the same. It would have gone more along the lines of last night’s dream. I’m not surprised when I feel another blush come on. Maybe this is what they mean by the home is where the heart is.

**Author's Note:**

> We hope you enjoy our work! Please leave a kudos or a comment if you did and have an awesome day/night, babes. Let us know if you'd like to see more or if you have any constructive criticism in the comments below.


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